


Do Me Over

by Dresupi



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adult Fred Weasley, Adult Hermione Granger, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempt at Humor, Banter, Everybody Lives, F/M, Humor, Idiots in Love, Minor Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, One Night Stands, One Shot, POV Alternating, POV Fred Weasley, POV Hermione Granger, Post-Hogwarts, Smut, mutual idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:14:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25860397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dresupi/pseuds/Dresupi
Summary: Hermione has an annoying habit of making things easier for everyone except herself, so when she perceives rejection on Fred's face the morning after their one-nighter, she does what comes naturally and makes it easy for him to leave. Continuing along that vein, she attempts to be as vague as possible in her description to Ginny in the hopes that she won't do what she always does and try to fix everything.  It, unfortunately, backfires, as these things often tend to.Meanwhile, Fred is hurt by Hermione's clear rejection of what happened the night before, but he's willing to just be friends if that's what she wants. However, he's not perfect, and his pride's hurt by what his sister reveals and wants a do-over. A second-chance that just might convince Hermione that Fred's good for more than just a one-nighter.AKAThe one where they're both idiots who have forgotten how to talk to one another.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Fred Weasley
Comments: 19
Kudos: 253
Collections: Dresupi's Fremione Fics





	Do Me Over

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, uh... so no one asked for this. Except me. But I hope you enjoy it anyway.
> 
> Special thanks to thestanceyg for beta-reading for me!
> 
> _I'd like to take the time to state that while I do dabble in her sandbox, I do NOT condone JKR's statements concerning trans women. Trans women ARE women. Trans men ARE men. Nonbinary identities ARE valid. Just because JKR wrote this book series, doesn't mean she gets to dictate how we perceive it, or how we enjoy it. If you found something in it that was good, or that made you feel good, know that it's valid. Regardless of the garbage she continues to spew. The fandom has always been the best part of this universe._
> 
>   
> 

**HERMIONE**

* * *

When Hermione woke up that morning, she could tell before she opened her eyes that something was amiss. Not _too_ amiss, mind. Just amiss enough to make her a bit cautious to open her eyes.

Her entire bed was mussed for one, and she usually only mussed one side of it. She was alone in it, but there was a very distinct impression of a second head on her other pillow. A quick rundown of the evening before brought everything back.

The way Fred’s gaze had gone from admiring to hungry in a split second. The way she’d practically thrown herself into his lap, the way his lips felt when they were pressed against her. They hadn’t gone _everywhere_ she’d have liked, but she was sort of being greedy and keeping him right where she could reach him.

So much so that he’d hauled her up into his arms and carried her off to her bedroom. In the wrong direction, but the spirit was very much appreciated. And she’d had a _lot_ of fun grinding up against him as he threatened to just take her there against the wall.

He’d magicked their clothing away and the rest… The rest had happened. It was only the single most romantic night of her life and as she pulled on her dressing gown to pad out to the kitchen, she felt like she was walking on air.

That is, until she encountered Fred leaning against the countertop, a cup of coffee pouring itself, as he wordlessly got another one pouring right after, presumably for her. That wasn’t what put her off. It was the fact that he looked so tense. His brow was knit, his lips pressed together as he looked anywhere but at her.

The coffee cup floated over to her, and she took it in hand, her own brow knitting tightly as she surveyed the situation.

And while it felt like a bucket of ice water, Hermione could roll with the punches. She took a sip of her black coffee before speaking. “We don’t even have to bring this up. We can just pretend it didn’t happen.” She wasn’t looking at him when she said it, because she knew damn well that he’d be able to read her expression and it’d ruin everything, so she stared down at her coffee instead.

He was silent for a long moment before he spoke again. “If that’s what you want.”

It wasn’t, but Hermione was cursed with the desire to make things easier for every single person, and therefore, she nodded. Lied outright. “It is.”

“Okay. Good. That’s… that’s that then, innit?”

“Quite,” she replied.

“I, uh… I should go. Are you still coming round after work?”

“Of course,” she said with a weak smile, looking up at him for the first time since she’d entered the room. “We have plans.”

Plans for her to do the equivalent of checking his and George’s maths on a potion recipe, but plans nonetheless.

“So we do,” he replied, a smile tugging at his face and Hermione relaxed all in one.

He was back. She’d smoothed things over and made it better, and now they could just be friends again.

Friends who knew what the others’ naughty bits looked like, but she just wouldn’t ever think about it again. No matter how incredibly satisfied she was for the first time in a long, _long_ time.

“I should be going,” he repeated, swallowing down the rest of his coffee and magically washing the mug before sending it back to the cabinet where he’d gotten it from. “See you after work?”

“After work,” she echoed. “Have a good morning.”

He stopped at the doorway to her kitchen, his hand running over the door frame for a long moment before he spoke. “You too, Granger.”

 _Granger_.

She’d always sort of liked the way Fred said her last name. How he’d included her in the group in that way.

Except for last night… last night he’d murmured her name over and over in her ear in time to the thrust of his hips. Not Granger, though. _Hermione_.

And she found she loved that even more.

But now she was back to Granger. It felt like whiplash.

Which, she supposed meant they’d bypassed the ugly business and gone straight back to where they’d started. Close friends who asked the other for help now and again. It was more Fred and George asking her than her asking them, but that was beside the point.

She hadn’t muddled up anything with her hormones. Thank Merlin.

She heard the fizzle of the Floo before she truly registered that he had gone. Likely leaving her there to her musing. Her eyes welled.

She told herself she wasn’t going to cry. She was going to march into the other room and take a shower. Change for work, and be on her way.

There was another crack from the Floo and her heart leaped into her throat. She wished openly for a moment that it was Fred, coming back to tell her that he’d changed his mind and then they could spend the morning shagging on every flat surface of her home.

She turned around to see red hair, but on the wrong Weasley. But she refused to be disappointed.

“Heya, Gin.”

“Hey yourself. You’re not dressed yet?”

“I’ve got time,” Hermione replied, swallowing back as much of her emotion as she could because Ginny was her best friend. And she’d be able to tell in a nanosecond that something was up.

“You feeling sick?”

“No, I had a bit of a lie-in,” Hermione replied.

Ginny followed her into the bedroom, taking a quick look around the room and gasping. She brought her hands up to cover her mouth. “Hermione Granger. You had someone over last night. Tell me everything.”

“There’s nothing to tell,” Hermione shrugged her shoulders while her friend scrutinized her face. She was done for. Ginny would be able to tell in a heartbeat.

“Oh my… Merlin, was it Ron?”

“What?” Hermione wrinkled her nose. “Why would _I_ \--”

“Because it’s got to be someone we both know or you’d just tell me. The list is rather small and I know Neville wouldn’t leave Luna for anything. You look ashamed, which leads me to Ron.”

“Merlin’s beard, _Ginerva_! No, Ron and I are not back together.”

“Oh good, he’s so wrong for you, Mione.”

“I know that,” she replied. All the Weasleys were, apparently.

“So who was…” Ginny trailed off, glancing around the room. “Oh, I know who it was.”

“Gin, no you don’t.”

“Fred.”

_How did she know that?_

“How did you know that?” Hermione asked.

“It was just a guess, but your reaction clued me in,” Ginny replied with a grin before taking a seat at Hermione’s vanity. “So…”

“So?” Hermione repeated, walking into her closet and rummaging around for something to wear under her work robes.

“How was it? You’ve been crushing on Fred for practically forever, so I mean. Without going into too many details--because remember please that this is my brother--was it everything you ever dreamed of?”

“Oh, it was… it was…” Hermione had to be careful here. Because Ginny was a notoriously bad matchmaker, and if she let on that things hadn’t ended the way she wanted, then Ginny would flounce off to try and fix it herself. With the best of intentions, mind. And then everything would blow up and she’d really lose Fred. For good. And she couldn’t do that. She just couldn’t.

Ginny was waiting for her to finish, so Hermione decided a vague response was the best approach.

“Ehhhhhhhhhhhhh, you know?”

Her friend’s eyebrows popped up. “Really?”

“Yeah, I mean.. It was ehhhhhh. You know?”

Ginny was frowning in confusion when she reentered the room from her closet. “Really? Eh?”

“I mean, not ehh like...you know. It was ehhhhhhhhhhhh, you know?”

“Yeah…” Ginny nodded. “Sorry that it wasn’t what you thought it’d be…”

If _!?_ made a sound, it was the one Hermione made right then. “Hnwha?”

“I mean… maybe it was an off-night for him or?”

_Oh no…_

“Gin, you can’t… you can’t tell anyone about this, okay?”

Her friend mimed zipping her lips. “Oh yeah, I promise.”

“Like don’t go telling Fred he was…”

“Ehhhhhh?” Ginny provided.

“Exactly.”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” she promised.

But as Hermione followed Ginny to wave goodbye as she grabbed a handful of Floo Powder and stepped into the fireplace, she knew it was only a matter of hours before it got back to Fred.

Shit, shit, shit. This was not how she wanted this to go.

* * *

**FRED**

* * *

Gin and Harry were late for lunch. So late that he just ordered in and ate at his desk, agreeing to another test of the much longer distance two-way Extendable Ears while George sat at a table at the cafe next door and listened in to what Fred was saying.

At the moment, he was reciting grammar rules, so lost in the monotony of each line that he didn’t really notice when Ginny walked in an hour too late for lunch with an apologetic look on her face.

“Bout time you showed up,” Fred said, taking a bite of his sandwich.

“Sorry, Harry got held up at work and then I just decided to come on my own… do you have any more of that?” She gestured to his sandwich and he nodded, pushing the take away box towards her. She pulled out a section of the sandwich for herself and took a bite.

“Saw Hermione this morning,” she said, her voice almost comically innocent.

Fred froze in mid-bite. Did she know? Of fucking course, she bloody well knew. She wouldn’t have brought it up if she didn’t. He hadn’t let himself think about anything that had happened at Hermione’s last night or this morning. She’d made it quite clear what it had been. A one-nighter. And that was all it was ever going to be. He was fine with that.

Which was pure bollocks. He wasn’t fine with anything that had been said that morning. But she’d said it and what kind of ass was he to argue? He didn’t deserve an explanation from her, no matter how badly he wanted one. The least he could do was salvage the friendship. Merlin, it had taken Ron and Hermione months to mend theirs and they’d been best friends before it took a nose-dive.

He and Hermione were close, but they were in no way best friends. What they had was tenuous as hell and if he did anything to muck it up, it could be mucked up forever. And if all she wanted was to be friends, Fred could respect that. No matter how fucking amazing it had been to have her wrapped around his body and digging her nails into his back.

Like a bloody wildcat, she was. He smirked a little despite himself and of course, Ginny caught it and swatted the back of his head.

“Don’t smirk like that, you idiot.”

“Ouch. Not sure I deserved that.” He rubbed the back of his head. “What?”

“Oh, you don’t know, do you?”

“Don’t know what?” he asked, confused as hell.

“Well, I probably shouldn’t tell you. It’s for Hermione to tell you.”

“Why’d you bloody well bring it up, then? Gossip Niffler.”

Ginny pursed her lips and glared before speaking. “She said you were rubbish in bed.”

His eyes flew wide as he turned to face her, the sandwich falling from his fingers to the table below. “Come again?”

“Perhaps that might have helped?” she said with a shrug.

He opened his mouth and closed it again. He repeated the action, almost gasping for the right words. “She said that to you? That I was rubbish in bed?”

“Not those exact words.”

“Fine, what were her exact words, Gin?”

“Let me think… let’s see, well…” she trailed off uncomfortably before replying. “What she said was ‘ehhhhhhhhhhhh, you know’?”

“Ehhhhhhhh?” he repeated.

“Eh,” she confirmed.

That just didn’t make sense. Either Hermione was the most amazing faker he’d ever been with, or she was lying to Ginny. He wasn’t willing to call Hermione a liar, so he’d have to go with the former. He shook his head in bewilderment.

“You had no idea?” Ginny asked, looking as if she didn’t believe him in the slightest.

“Gin. I would never be a lousy lay on purpose. I’ve never had complaints before, and she certainly wasn’t--” He stopped immediately, shook his head. Because some things weren’t for everyone’s ears.

_Ears. Fuck me, the Extendable Ears…_

He closed his eyes and reached for the ear on the table still sitting there. He brought it up for a listen and sighed heavily as he heard the cackling laughter on the other end. “You heard all that, didn’t you?”

George’s cackling laughter was all the response he got. Before he gulped in air and replied, sounding very much like he was about to either burst into tears or laughter. “Ehhhhhhhhh, you know.”

“Bloody idiot…” he groused and slammed the ear into the desk drawer and closed it inside. “Muffliato.”

“Is that George?” Ginny asked, grimacing.

“He was bound to hear it anyway…” he said, kicking his foot against the drawer for good measure.

“I’m sorry, Fred. I didn’t want to tell you…”

He closed his eyes and shook his head. “No, I’m glad you told me. Because honestly, it’s the only honest critique I’ve ever gotten.”

“I mean, maybe she’s just not into whatever it was that you did?”

He shook his head. “I am not having this conversation with you, Ginny.”

“You’re right, you should have it with Hermione.”

The door to the office opened up and George burst in, panting and laughing so much he had to bend over to catch his breath. He was winding the extendable ears around his arm as he went. The line between them was the downfall of the product, really. They’d need to come up with some other way to connect them.

Of course, currently, Fred wanted to use the line to strangle his twin, so he supposed it did have a purpose.

“Or you could talk it out with me,” George offered.

“Even worse,” Fred muttered.

Ginny leaned over and grabbed another piece of the sandwich from the takeaway box. “That’s my cue to go… _please_ talk to Hermione before you do something foolish, Fred.”

He gave her an incredulous look. “Something foolish?” he parroted back to her. “Like what, for instance, Gin?”

“I don’t know,” she replied, backing towards the door. “But I’m sure it wouldn’t be difficult.”

She’d backed out of the room before he could reply, but George was already talking again and wiping tears from his eyes.

“In all seriousness, I’m sure you were fine. First times are always awkward. You know with Angelina and me...”

“You don’t have to tell me, she already did,” Fred replied, rubbing his hand over his face. “And it wasn’t as bad as ‘ehhhhhhhhhhh you know’.”

George sighed and patted his shoulder. “Sometimes, you just need the second time as a do-over. I’m sorry that Granger ended things before you could have one.”

A do-over was exactly what he needed. Perhaps the reason she hadn’t been so keen to continue things had been because he’d been off last night.

It _had_ been a lot of pent up frustration being released at once. And he hadn’t even put to use all the knowledge in his repertoire. Hell, they’d fallen asleep after one go, and he hadn’t even gotten to really get into the foreplay. It had just been the sparks, and then a full-on play. No warm-ups. Although she’d seemed plenty warm when she’d been clawing his back and groaning his name into the dark.

But he wasn’t going to worry about that. He was going to use it to improve himself. George was right. The first times with any partner were bound to be lackluster. At least until he figured out how to play her body like one of those Muggle Fiddles. Maybe then she’d be more interested in something longer than a one-nighter. Or a two-nighter in this case.

If he worded himself correctly, she wouldn’t even have to know that he was desperately trying for a second chance for any reason other than his own pride.

George was still talking, so Fred reached out and patted his arm. “Shut up, Forge.”

“Oy, rude.”

“Sorry, I just… had a thought.”

“Congratulations, Gred. It wouldn’t be to go find Hermione before our dinner plans to beg for a do-over, would it?”

“Was I thinking out loud again?”

“A bit, yeah. I have to say, it’s not your worst idea… except it is.”

“ _Oy_ ,” Fred shot back.

“Mate, you’ve been in love with her for almost a year now. Since before she and Ron broke things off… I’m just worried that if what you said was true this morning, that even if she agrees to let you have a do-over, it’s just going to turn out the same, and you’ll be even worse off than you were this morning.

Fred knew he was right. But he also knew that this was the only shot he had.

“I don’t have any other option.”

“You do, though. You could just stop right now and cut your losses.”

He could. It would be an easy way out. Except Fred wasn’t the sort to take the easy way. Not ever. He jumped in headfirst and worried about swimming later.

If he chickened out now, it wouldn’t be him.

So he smirked at George and shook his head. “Nah. The easy way’s not my way.”

George smiled back. “You know I’ll be here no matter what, right? But also know that if things don’t work out, I’ll be waiting exactly three months before I tease you again about ‘ehhhhhhhhhh, you know.”

“Wanker,” Fred muttered.

* * *

**HERMIONE**

* * *

Hermione thought several times about sending an owl and begging out of their plans that night, but she figured if she did that, it might send a bad message to Fred about her ability, or lack thereof, to move past the night before.

So after she finished up at work, she took a walk to Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, in lieu of using the Floo. She used the walk to talk herself up, surround herself with courage, and tell herself that this was just another evening with friends. Never mind the naughty bits.

Arriving at the door, she let herself in like she usually did when she visited after hours. The shop itself was closed, and no matter how many times she’d done this, it still looked eerie, devoid of customers milling about and blowing things up. But, she heard nondescript chatter coming from the back room and headed that way.

The entire back room of the shop had been turned into a laboratory of sorts, for the twins to test out products before they added them to the stock in the shop.

She heard a loud explosion and two voices shouting.

She sighed. Some things just didn’t change. She and Fred had potentially made an irreparable error the night before, but the twins were still blowing everything up.

It was almost comforting.

At least, it was until she knocked tentatively on the door and everything went completely silent behind it.

There was a split moment where she panicked and thought she’d interrupted them and they’d zapped themselves tiny again or something. She wasn’t sure she could remember the counter-spells from memory, and she’d left all her spellbooks back home.

But then George’s voice rang out. “That you, Granger?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“You don’t have to knock, you nutter.”

Rolling her eyes, she stepped inside. And sent her cloak and bag to the hook on the wall.

She pointed didn’t address Fred, but rather both twins at once. George was the one who answered though, Fred abruptly turned around and fiddled with something at another table.

“Is that what you needed my help with?” she gestured to the bubbling cauldron between them. It was full of what looked like clear glue. Or rubber cement, given the way it bounced and held his stirring implement in place.

George sighed. “Yeah. I don’t know where we went wrong.” He waved his wand over the gloopy concoction and it disappeared, the cauldron once again sparkling clean.

“What’s it supposed to look like?” Hermione asked.

“Water,” George said.

“That sounds dangerous.”

“It tastes like blackberries, and we’re going to tint it so no one gets confused,” Fred added, over his shoulder.

It was the first thing he’d said, and she couldn’t help micro analyzing it. He sounded stiff. A bit Percy-like. So, uncomfortable. Or perhaps she was reading too far into it.

“Okay, well, let me see your method…” She summoned the parchment on the far table and peered at George’s chicken scratch. “Are you slicing the Lutoseeds before you add it?”

“Yeah, of course,” Fred replied. “You have to, or it’s not effective.”

“It’s a thickening agent and trust me, it’s _very_ effective without even slicing the thing.” She reached into the bowl of the oblong pods, drew one out, and rubbed it against the table to break through the shell only slightly. “There. Try it now. It might not be so gluey.”

“Brilliant,” George murmured, staring at the Lutoseed she’d deposited in his hand. “Stay with us always, Granger.”

She chuckled a bit but caught Fred’s eye and her smile fell immediately. “I mean… as long as you need me. You lot have this pretty well handled. Sometimes you overthink.”

“Never been accused of overthinking before,” George mused. “Listen, I’m going to go check in the back for a file, maybe that’d be an easier way to grate down the shell. He left the room for a smaller door in the back. The room had been magically enlarged to be a storeroom of sorts, but one had to crouch down to get through the door, due to zoning issues on Diagon Alley.

Once he’d gone, Hermione and Fred were all alone. She had to wonder if he’d done this on purpose.

She smiled in Fred’s direction and he returned the expression. It was almost painfully tense.

“Had lunch with Ginny this afternoon,” Fred mused aloud.

Hermione’s stomach fell. “Oh?” Maybe her friend had kept her mouth shut for once.

“Yeah… she um… she had some interesting information that you failed to share with me this morning. Although if it was as bad as she indicated, perhaps that’s why you didn’t bring it up with me.”

“Fred…”

“Look, you don’t have to explain. It’s fine, Hermione. I mean, it’s a matter of taste, innit?”

“I really am so sorry that--”

“I’d like a do-over,” he said quietly.

“What?” Hermione’s brow furrowed as she peered over at him, wondering if she’d really heard him correctly. “You want a do-over?”

“Yeah, if you’re not too turned off of me, I’d like a chance to prove I’m not rubbish in bed.”

“I never said that,” she argued.

“You practically did. You said I was ‘ehhhhhhh’, you know?”

She sighed. “I know what I said, yeah… Fred, it’s not what you think.”

“I’m just saying, I can do better. I wasn’t on my game last night. And perhaps we can talk beforehand and you can tell me exactly what you’re looking for.”

“Fred, you weren’t rubbish. You were lovely. I was simply trying to be vague with Ginny so she wouldn’t go out and try to fix anything.”

“Whoa, wait. What’s that mean?”

“I mean, I enjoyed myself. I had fun. You were very… satisfying.” Her cheeks blazed bright red. “I just was trying to be vague with Gin and she mistook my vagueness for disappointment.”

George reappeared from the back room at that moment. “No files, but we do have a shite-ton of shopping bags, so no need to reorder next month.” He got to his feet and wiped his hands on his trousers, looking between them. At Hermione’s assuredly red-face and Fred’s that looked like he was greatly pained by a burr stuck somewhere he couldn’t pluck it. “Oy, I um… I’m going to go upstairs and look at the milk. Watching to see if I can catch it curdling…” He laughed uncomfortably and promptly apparated.

Fred bit down on his bottom lip and pulled his wand out of his pocket. He waved it and everything shot back to its rightful place. “So you weren’t disappointed?”

“Not at all,” she assured him.

“But you still don’t want to--” He snapped his mouth closed and shook his head. “I think I’m gonna go join George. Thanks for all your help and the clarification, Granger. I’ll see you when I see you?” He didn’t look at her, but rather over her shoulder.

Hermione blinked, nodding. “I’ll lock up on my way out?” she offered.

Fred nodded tightly. “Thanks.”

And then he disappeared with a pop as well, leaving Hermione there with only her bewildered thoughts.

True to her word, she locked up the front doors before returning to the fireplace to Floo home.

Her mind was swirling with thoughts as she stepped into her living room, Crookshanks meowing and winding around her legs in greeting. As she absent-mindedly reached down to pet him, her eye caught on something on the chair by the bookcase.

Something dark blue and very familiar.

Fred’s jumper. He must have left it here the night before.

Crookshanks meowed again, more insistently this time, and she followed him out to the kitchen, summoning his dish and pouring some food into it before padding back out to the living room. She picked up the jumper and sat down on the chair, hugging it close to her.

It smelled like Fred. Like the smoke that lingered in the air after fireworks had gone off. Like the soap he used in the shower. Like the coffee he drank all the time.

He’d seemed so hurt. Likely because she hadn’t given him the explanation he’d wanted. She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t have an explanation for why she’d done what she’d done. Other than she felt it was the best thing to do. The thing that would make him happy.

But he assuredly wasn’t happy.

She tucked the jumper under her arm and walked over the fireplace. They’d have to talk. Tonight. She wasn’t going to lose Fred due to a lack of communication.

Reaching for the Floo Powder, she tossed a handful into the fireplace. “Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes,” and stepped inside.

* * *

**FRED**

* * *

Fred had just finished his teeth cleaning spell and was ready to go change into his pyjamas. He’d just tugged his shirt over his head when he heard the telltale pop of the Floo downstairs.

Groaning, he realized that George had likely invited Angelina over and now he’d have to lay by himself while his brother got laid one room over. It wasn’t like he could hear anything, and he usually didn’t mind but for some reason, it grated on his nerves this time.

He heard the door to the flat open, and George greeting someone.

Fred took a deep breath and let it out, sending his shirt to the laundry hamper and removing his trousers as well. He summoned the bottom half of a set of flannel pyjamas and pulled them on when there was a rapid knock on his door.

Judging by the location of the knock on the door itself, it wasn’t George. Unless George hunched over and had suddenly become meek.

Frowning, Fred pulled the door open, surprised to see Hermione there, clutching his jumper in her hands. The dark blue one he’d left over there that morning. He realized belatedly that he was shirtless, staring at her with a frown on his face.

And she looked…

Merlin, she looked like she needed a hug. Perhaps he’d put a shirt on first.

“Can we talk?” she asked quietly.

“Of course,” he said, stepping aside and allowing her entrance to his room. He shut the door behind them and summoned a t-shirt from his armoire. “You can have a seat anywhere…” he gestured vaguely into the room, realizing belatedly that he’d let his hand fall hard to his side. “Sorry, I…” he began, unsure of where to begin.

He was holding his shirt in his hands when she replied.

“You don’t have to apologise. I feel like I should. I haven’t been completely honest with you.”

“Oh?” He didn’t know what else to say, but he’d frozen there with his shirt in his hands. He didn’t want to hope for something that was unlikely to happen, but he did all the same.

“I _did_ want you to stay this morning…” she blurted. “I was happy before I came out into the kitchen because I thought that it was the start of something. But then I saw you, standing there looking very much like you were knee-deep in regret and I had to give you an out.”

“An out?” he murmured, but she didn’t seem to hear him.

“I made a decision for both of us without including you in it. Even if you agree with the decision, I admit that you deserve an explanation. We’re friends, and I should have been honest with you. Especially when it carries the potential to affect the future of our friendship. It was unfair of me to keep that from you. I’m sorry, Fred. The reason I didn’t give you an explanation was because I didn’t have one. I didn’t want… I didn’t have an explanation.”

His mind was racing. _She_ wanted more? _She_ wanted this to continue? She wanted _him_ the way he wanted her? But she thought _he_ had regrets?

“You thought I regretted being with you?” he asked softly, turning to face her, his hands falling from where he’d been holding them.

“I…” she trailed off and looked down at her hands, where she was gripping his jumper. “Yes, I did. I was really excited and happy this morning, and then when I got to the kitchen, I saw how pensive you were and assumed the worst.”

Fred laughed. “Hermione, the only regret I have is not doing this sooner.”

“What?” she asked, looking up at him with watery eyes. Merlin, he wanted to laugh and kiss her, the silly thing.

“I’ve wanted this with you for so long, love…”

She blinked, her mouth hanging open. “You have? You’ve wanted… wanted this?”

“Yes, for ages. Or a year… thereabouts. A year is ages when you’re in love with a friend who has no idea,” he laughed again.

She swallowed thickly. “So why did you look like you’d made the biggest mistake of your life this morning?”

“I wanted to cook you breakfast, but you were out of everything, so I was weighing the options of taking you out or heading to the shops before you woke up.”

“Are you serious?” she said, looking almost angry. “I overthought you wanting to make a fry-up?”

“It appears that way.”

She sighed and started folding his jumper in her lap. “Well, in my defense, you hadn’t said a word about anything. And wouldn’t have if I didn’t--”

“Yes, we’re both idiots, I don’t think anyone’s going to argue with you on that.”

She laughed a bit and unfolded the jumper again. “So… to clarify. We’re doing this?”

“I’d like to,” he replied.

“Pick up where we left off?” she asked. “Before the miscommunication?”

“Absolutely,” he replied.

“I just have one question.”

“Shoot.”

“Why are you still all the way over there?”

He dropped his shirt to the floor and crossed the floor in two long strides and one shorter one. She stood and wrapped her arms around him, their lips meeting like they were drawn to one another. It reminded him of the kiss the night before, and he made an effort to slow down a bit.

Just a little, he didn’t want to stop kissing her.

“I will make it better than last night though,” he promised her between kisses.

“Last night was wonderful,” she argued.

“Then tonight will be unspeakable bliss, Hermione.”

She smiled, reaching up to brush his hair out of his face.

“What?” he asked, grinning.

“Nothing. I just like it when you call me that.”

“Your name?” he asked. “No offense, love, but the bar is really low for pleasing you. I enjoy a bit of a challenge.”

She shot him a snotty look. “You usually call me Granger, you dolt.”

“I do?”

“Yes.”

“Never again,” he promised, kissing her again. He wasn’t sure how they ended up there, but suddenly, the backs of her knees hit the bed and she arched into him, unwinding one arm to reach for her wand and whisper a charm.

“Muffliato.”

He beamed. “I like the way you think.”

“That’s good, because I do a lot of it.”

“Too much of it sometimes,” he added, ducking down to suck a kiss to her jaw, she practically went limp in his arms and both of them tumbled back onto the bed.

She flicked her wand once more and every stitch of clothing disappeared.

“Oh bless your beautiful brain,” he murmured, kissing his way down her throat and bringing his hand down to cup her breast from beneath. His thumb flicked over her nipple and she pressed into his touch.

Fuck, he should have done this last night. Every little sound she made was melodiously erotic. He felt a tightening in his belly whenever she spoke, member unbearably stiff as he rocked against her hip.

Lowering his mouth to her nipple, he sucked it between his lips. She gasped and grabbed ahold of his hair. His scalp tingled as she tugged. He released her and looked up.

“Kiss me,” she pleaded.

“I am,” he replied cheekily.

“Fred.”

“Hermione… told you I wouldn’t be rushing. You can kiss me all you like later.”

She rolled her eyes, but he dropped his head to her other breast and her complaints ceased.

He almost didn’t want to drag his lips from where they were. He was perfectly happy to tease her until she forcibly rolled him over and made him stop, but he was on a mission. He had a number in his mind. And he wanted to reach that number. Chances of reaching it were greatly improved by continuing on his quest down her torso until he could settle right between her thighs.

The thought of kissing her there, tasting her, was heady enough to make him groan as he shifted his weight to move.

While he kissed over her belly, he brought both hands down behind her knees, bending them and planting her feet far apart so he could fit between them.

“Fred, you don’t have to--”

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked, hands poised behind her knees. “Because I would very much like to continue, but if you’d rather I didn’t--”

She swallowed and lay back on the pillows, biting her lip to contain a giggle. “Only if you want to,” she acquiesced.

He responded by lowering his head between her thighs and licking her open.

She swore and her hand reappeared in his hair. Not to tug him away, but to hold him in place. He’d be lying if he said that wasn’t hot as hell. His member was heavy and achy, but he resisted the urge to do anything about it just yet.

It would be right where he left it in a few minutes anyway.

He swirled his tongue over her clit and brought one hand over from her knee. He slid two fingers against her, spreading the slickness both from her and from him. He slowly pushed them inside her heat, marveling at the low moan that ensued. The tighter grip on his hair.

Regardless of how she held him, he pulled back just slightly while he fucked his fingers in and out of her, wriggling them until he found that soft spot that made her toes curl into the mattress.

Her walls tightened and clenched, seemingly sucking them in as quickly as he could pull them back. She ground her hips against his hand and tugged on his hair. “Fred…”

He kept pressing them in and out until she began to quiver and mumble his name over and over again, her muscles rippling around his fingers and her thighs shaking.

That was one.

He lowered his head immediately, fluttering his tongue over her clit while she writhed beneath him. Two quickly followed one, and she nearly tore his hair from the root when she shook apart this time.

Her entire body was quivering when he pushed up on his knees, wiping his mouth and moving forward to balance over her. He grinned and licked his lips as she opened her eyes, peering up at him languidly from her position on his pillows. “Alright, Hermione?”

“I should swat you for that, you cheeky bastard,” she grumbled. “Not fair, that.”

“Aww, come now, love. You should probably save your energy.”

The look she shot him should have been withering, but because of the blissed-out expression on her face, she barely managed more than hungry.

“Fred…” she wrapped both of her legs around his waist. “Kiss me?” she whispered, winding her hand behind his head and pulling him down.

He kissed her, or she kissed _him,_ rather. Because his lips were a bit… well, they weren’t one-hundred percent after the work out he’d just given them. She didn’t seem to care though.

“You want I should--” he began and she nodded rapidly.

“Yes. Please…” Her hand wrapped around his cock, squeezing and guiding him to her opening.

When he entered her, his vision blacked out for a moment. Just a short moment as he got used to her heat and the way she was squeezing him. He wasn’t certain she was doing it on purpose, but as he began to move, her walls seemed to move in tandem, so he could only guess that it was purposeful.

He started out slow, but the tugging in his belly kept him from doing that for long. He gave up all pretense with a groan and braced his hands on either side of her, thrusting in and out with abandon and almost forgetting that he still had a number to reach. Judging by how good this felt, he knew he’d likely just make his goal, but he’d have to switch positions because she felt phenomenal.

Her fingernails dug into his back once again as he fucked her hard against the bed, sitting back on his knees to slightly move positions. He slipped both hands under her arse to lift her up. And when he started moving, she whimpered and reached for the headboard.

Fucking glorious.

“Fred,” she gasped, her body clenching him so tightly that he came seconds after she did, groaning her name as he slammed his hips against hers.

He slowed down, panting and leaning over her to attempt to plant a kiss on her before rolling over on his back, he muttered a cleansing charm to clean both of them up and she let out a very satisfied sigh.

“Fuck,” she breathed.

And he laughed, in that tired, completely fucked out way that only happened after really good sex. Because he’d never in his life heard her utter that word up until now and the knowledge that _this_ was how he’d get her to say it again made him preen just slightly. He opened up his arm and she rolled against his side, curling into place like she was made to fit there.

She brought one hand up to stroke his hair. “How was that?” he asked, leaning into her touch as his eyes fluttered closed.

“Ehhhh, you know,” she replied, sighing happily.

“ _Hermione_.”

She laughed and kissed him. “Fred, you are wonderful, in that you are both full of, and are a wonder.”

“Yeah?”

“Three times,” she said, resting her head on his shoulder. “You’ve officially raised my expectations.”

“Good,” he replied. “I think you’ll find me a very willing pupil in regards to my improvement.”

“Yeah, well. I’ll show you next time that I’m no slouch,” she replied. “Kind of just laid there this time…”

“You did plenty,” he added. “But I’d still like to see that all the same. In the near future, just to be completely transparent. Ya know, so you don’t go off thinking I regretted tonight. Regretted being your love god of orgasmic delights or some such nonsense.”

“You never said otherwise,” she reminded him.

“I have done now.”

“Oh, you most assuredly have,” she said leaning over to press a soft kiss to his jaw.

They were silent for a long moment, long enough for him to fall into that euphorically warm space between waking and sleeping before she spoke again, jarring him awake.

“What are you thinking?” she asked.

“Why, do I look all pensive again?”

“Yeah…”

“I’m falling asleep, love… I’m sorry…” He yawned and she chuckled softly.

“Don’t be, I’ll wake you up in an interesting way.” She settled down on the pillows and coaxed him to lie down on her chest.

“Can’t wait,” he mumbled. Hermione stroked his hair and he felt her heart beating against his cheek as he slipped back into that wonderfully warm place once more.


End file.
